


You Can Run, You Can Hide, but You Can't Escape the Past

by sociopathicmoose (Werebr0kenppl)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Jenny Thunder - Freeform, idk what else to tag this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:56:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werebr0kenppl/pseuds/sociopathicmoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What’s so funny, Cas?” Sam asked, while Dean added on, “Another joke that’s funnier in Enochian?”</p><p>Cas slowly shook his head and straightened up to look Dean in the eye. “No, Dean, I was merely laughing at your previous stint in modeling.”</p><p>Deans eyes went wide. “How much of that were you here for?” </p><p>“Enough. But your brother’s right: you would have made a great cowboy, Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Run, You Can Hide, but You Can't Escape the Past

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written for a friend on tumblr
> 
> She gave me the idea that Sam somehow found out about Dean's Jenny Thunder phase and then this happened.
> 
> If you don't know what Jenny Thunder is, I implore you to google it because it is literally the best most awkward thing ever

It had been weeks since Dean and Sam had heard from their father. He left more than enough money for the allotted time he said he was going to be back; however, that was two weeks ago, and things were starting to get tight. Dean didn’t know what to do.

 He thought about trying to find an odd job, like shoveling someone’s driveway; the only problem is was it was an unusually warm winter, and with hardly any snow falling at all. The one time it did snow and Dean managed to find a house to shovel, the little old lady living there didn’t have any spare cash and therefore couldn’t pay him.

One day, while visiting the library with Sammy to get some books for a research project, he noticed a flyer on the community bulletin board while he was waiting for Sam to finish getting a drink.

“Wanted: Male Model, between ages of 17-20, pay TBD. Contact Ella Johnson if interested”

That got Dean thinking; he wasn’t  _that_  bad looking, he inherited the strong, Winchester jawline from his father, and deep, hazel-green eyes from his mother. Dean quickly made up his mind and inconspicuously tore off one of the strips with the lady’s phone number just as Sam was finished getting his drink. Together they left and went back to their motel.

In the 2 weeks following, Dean would go over to Ella’s “studio,” if you could call it that. It was more of an efficiency apartment made to look like a photographer’s studio, most days after school while Sammy  went to the library, other days he’d ditch 7th period English and do it then.

Ella, in her final year of Grad school, working on her last project before she could graduate; she had to have several people model for her, not necessarily people she was acquainted with either. She had some very strange ideas for him to model though; one day she came up with like a western theme. Another time she had him in some hideous brick pants. There were other times when he was damn-near stark naked. But to be honest, some of them didn’t turn out too bad.

When John finally came back, Dean regrettably called Ella up and told her it would have to stop; she told him that whenever he was back in the area and was still interested to give her a call again.

He never spoke to her again, and Sam and John were none the wiser about his efforts to keep food on the table for he and his brother.

—————(17 Years Later)——————————-

Sam was doing research for their newest case, an urban myth gone awry, when he noticed a pop up on the sidebar of a shirtless cowboy; a cowboy with a really familiar face. After staring at the advert for a few good minutes, Sam finally figured it out: that was  _Dean._  But then that just made Sam wonder, when did Dean  _model?_ Double making sure that Dean still wasn’t back with their dinner yet, he decided to do a little digging.

After looking for about near 10 minutes, Sam finally found something: a name.  _Jenny Thunder._  From there Sam did another Google search, and came up with images that were  _definitely_  of his much-younger looking brother. 

As Dean was walking into the motel room with food for the both of them, Sam was sitting at the table on his laptop, laughing so hard at something that he wasn’t even making any sound. 

“Dude, what the hell’s so funny over there?” Dean asked as he put down  the bag of food and made his way over to the table.

“Nothing,” Sam managed to choke out, trying to hide the screen from Dean.

As soon as Dean managed to get the computer away from Sam, he took one look at the screen and paled; suddenly, he didn’t feel so good.

“Uh how the  _hell_  did you find these?” Dean asked, both incredulously and accusingly, trying desperately to make it go away.

It took him a minute, but Sam finally managed to get his laughs under control. “It’s the internet; you can find just about anything on there. But just tell me-when did you do this? And why?”

Dean sighed. He figured he might as well own up to it; the damage was already done. “When I was 17, we were stuck in that town in I don’t even remember where, but dad was only supposed to be gone 2 weeks, tops, which turned into two months. Things were getting tight and I was looking for odd jobs to do to keep food on the table for you and there’s was the one chick in grad school who was looking for male models. She actually paid really well, and well, some of them didn’t turn out _that_ badly.”

“But why were you wearing brick pants though? And what was up with all the almost-nude cowboy shots? Did the chick have some kind of fetish?”

“Dude, I don’t even wanna know. I just did what she told me to and she paid me. I didn’t ask questions.”

“You totally could have rocked the cow-boy thing, though,” Sammy said scrolling through the pages of images of Jenny Thunder. 

Just then, the brothers could hear the rustle of wings, the tell-tale sign that Cas had arrived, effectively cutting Dean off before he could begin to respond.

At first, Dean thought something was wrong; the angel appeared, hunched over, with his shoulders shaking. After a second it hit him: he was  _laughing_. 

“What’s so funny, Cas?” Sam asked, while Dean added on, “Another joke that’s funnier in Enochian?”

Cas slowly shook his head and straightened up to look Dean in the eye. “No, Dean, I was merely laughing at your previous stint in modeling.”

Deans eyes went wide. “How much of that were you here for?” 

“Enough. But your brother’s right: you would have made a  _great_ cowboy, Dean.”


End file.
